Dave: Go Insane
by Nanrz
Summary: You are DAVE STRIDER, and you are the coolest of cool. You helped win Sburb, and are reaping the spoils. Until you meet a girl who is immune to your coolkid charms. Dave: proceed to GO INSANE.


Here's a poopy attempt at some Homesmut. I paired Dave with an OOC so I only have to fuck up one character at a time. Enjoy!

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><p>You are Dave Strider, and if this bitch in front of you doesn't move, you are going to ironically pour her "SKIM EXTRA-HOT NO FOAM LATTE WITH THREE SPLENDA STIRRED THRICE, HOW HARD IS THAT, SERIOUSLY?" coffee on her head.<p>

As you wait in line at your favorite Starbucks, you decide to reflect on your life post-Sburb. After you had all completed the Scratch, life surprisingly went back to normal. Almost. The trolls joined you on the New Earth, as everyone who played the game called it, and none of the other humans seemed to notice their skin or horns. It was nice, if a little weird. It would've seriously pissed you off if some little kid had kept staring at Sollux every time you two went to the only arcade worth frequenting, Dagger Alley. He was pretty cool, and you got along with him and his "matesprit" Feferi.

Jane had used "the Lifey thing" to bring back all of the trolls, which was cool, but you wished she had left Vriska dead some days. Girl grated on your nerves like an extra-large smuppet, smokin' body or not. But everyone else was legit, and you'd become friends with the choice few who mattered: Sollux, Terezi, Nepeta, and Karkat. Though you could only handle Karkat for a few hours before the urge to cut him up with a shitty sword became too much to ignore. You weren't surprised when slime-sister Rose announced that she and Kanaya had moved in together, even less so when they opened up a clothing store that featured hand-knit accessories.

John and Karkat were living together now, had moved in together just last week. You figured Egderp would keep Karkat from being too much of a prick, so you flipped open your phone and sent a quick text agreeing to come to their housewarming party. After this, you needed to hit a bookstore and skim a book or two and find out what someone brought to a housewarming party. Rose's hadn't been hard, you just got her a gift card to her favorite knitting store.

Finally. Bitch moved out of the way as new workers came in to replace the morning shift, and you stepped up to the register to order your favorite drink, Double Chocolate Chip Frappucino with three shots, extra extra EXTRA drizzle and extra whipped cream. But before you can open your mouth, you stare at the obviously brand new cashier. Where was Darla, the heavy lady with the frizzy hair who made sure to never give you pennies in change? You swear to yourself and quickly add up how much you have in your pocket that won't amount to an odd number of change.

FUCK.

It was even worse when you noticed how seriously adorable the new girl was. Bright eyes, their color hidden by your shades, hair long enough that it still reached her shoulders when pulled up in that irritatingly cute high ponytail. Slight dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, complete with a slight crinkle when she smiled even more cutely to take your order.

Well hello there.

You always caught the new girls before they started their shift, to hit them up for a date (during which you always scored without fail) and inform them to never, under any circumstances, give you pennies.

Fuck.

You place your order stoically, noticing with a smidge of respect when she gave no indication that your order was abnormal. New girls always did that, and it annoyed you. She asks your name and you give it, and she gives a small smile as she writes it on your cup. If this chick got any cuter, you were going to have to use your Texan charm on her. And she promptly did, by not handing you pennies with your change without hesitation. This girl was going to get hit on, and by the best of the best. You.

You needed coffee first.

You are Dave Strider, and as you sit in the corner seat, sipping your coffee, you decide that the new girl is one of the cutest girls you've seen in a long time. She blew Nepeta out of the water, and that pint-sized troll is #1 on your Top 5 list. Or was. You watch behind your shades as she effortlessly handles even the most arguable customers with a cute grin, never failing to make them smile by the time they walk to the other side of the counter to pick up their drink. At one point she and one elderly lady share a laugh, and it gives you tingles on the back of your neck. It was like some twerp had run through all the wind chimes at Home Depot, but instead of jangling together in an annoying cacophony, it melded into something different, beautiful. It makes you want to make some beats. Oh yeah, she's gonna be yours.

You plot out your tried and true game plan of hooking up with a girl, including but not limited to bumping into her "accidentally" before her shift and conveniently being there to give her a ride home when hers, to be determined, fails. You sit there for a while longer, watching the people filter in and out, before leaving and beginning the short trek down the sidewalk to the bookstore.

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><p>You've been at the bookstore for about two hours now, making your way from the comic section to skimming through magazines and finally getting around to finding that book on house parties. You meander in that direction, hands in your pockets, when suddenly you're thrown off balance by someone careening into you from the side. Using your flashstep, you catch yourself on a nearby bookshelf and use the other arm to catch the person that ran into you.<p>

"Now, normally I'm all for sweeping people off their feet, but I tend to do it so they aren't caught quite so off guard," you drawl, turning your head to look the offender in the face. It's a girl, and a sexy one at that. You get a nice view of nice-sized breasts (C-cup, by use of your amazing skills of deduction) and full lips before setting her on her feet. You take those few seconds to give her a quick once-over. Small waist, nice hips, shiny hair, and legs that go on forever. She's shorter than your 6ft by a good six inches, and has the smallest hands you've ever seen. Her glossy brown hair has fallen over her face a bit, and you gallantly sweep it behind her shoulder.

She then begins to laugh, and you raise an eyebrow. Wtf?

"Wow, my bad! I was trying to get the last copy of a new book in the series I'm reading, and I managed to trip over my own feet. OH! It's right there, do you mind?"

Before you can give her an answer one way or the other, she steps around you a bit and tries to reach for the book, right next to the hand you'd used to catch your balance with. She's too short to get it, but keeps brushing the back of your hand in her attempts. Each time she does, it sends tiny shocks up the back of your hand, and you can't choose whether you want her to quit or do that on a much lower body part. You reach up and easily grab the book, but you don't hand it to her. Instead, you hold it above her head.

"Well if this is what you want, you're gonna have to reach for it."

She frowns and folds her arms, staring at you with a surprisingly intense gaze. Quick as lightning she kicks you hard in the shin, causing you to grunt and lower the book. She snatches it out of your hand and presses it against her chest protectively, while you frown and inwardly wince at the pain in your leg. Giving you a saucy smile, she winks at you before walking towards the checkout line.

"Thanks, Dave. See you later."

Wait...what?

A week goes by, and you are pissed. That hot bitch gave you one hell of a bruise, and you haven't seen the Starbucks girl all week. Bro keeps giving you a hard time about it, making offhand comments about you losing your touch. You don't let him get to you. He announces that he's bringing a girl home, and you aren't to be here. Which, of course, means you will be.

Like you'd ever let him bring a girl home without making it hella-difficult for him to score.

You finish rigging his condom drawer with firecrackers right as the front door to the apartment opens, and you flashstep to the couch, sinking onto it and pretending to watch as they round the corner into the living room.

"Yo. This is Rhi. Don't give her shit. Rhi, I'm cooking."

You roll your eyes. Bro is never that articulate, or cooks, unless a girl is involved. You hear her sit down next to you, and you shift to introduce yourself.

FUCK.


End file.
